I Stand Corrected
by Alomoria
Summary: Batman One Shot. Musings of mostly Edward Nigma (aka Riddler) currently in Arkham Asylum during mealtime. Takes place a few weeks after the capture of Jervis Tetch, who meanwhile finds himself being harassed by Croc while standing in line. Jon just wants to eat his food in peace, not be chattered at by Nigma and (NOT worry!) about Tetch... [rated T for blood/stabbing mention]


**Title:** _I Stand Corrected_

 **Genre:** Humor/hurt/comfort

 **Warnings:** Mention of blood, brief mention of suicide attempt

 **Word Count:** 2428

It was a bright, dull and _microscopically sterile_ of a place. Three things Edward Nigma hated.

Well, he hated a _lot_ of things, but that particular trio in combination irked him far more profusely than if he had encountered them individually. And certainly, not in living quarters he himself would have to exist in. But this was his current lot in life it seemed.

These were the sort of thoughts that drifted in Edward's mind as he paced quietly to the table with his dinner tray, along with calculations of a potential escape plan involving mustard (spicy, not honey), the lyrics of a Van Halen song (from the Roth years), and theories on how to rework an old file version of Windows Movie Maker to work on his new PC (the lime green one the Police had missed when they ransacked his place during his last capture). Edward Nigma was one to multitask, as it helped block out peskier thoughts and memories of his past he cared not dwell on.

Besides, what sort of puzzle-master would he be if his mind wasn't a constant maze and tangled web only he could understand?

He sighed as he sat at the end of the table, knowing full well his choice of seating was uncomfortably close to Crane's placement beside it. It made him smirk to see Crane scooch an inch away. He enjoyed getting in the taller man's personal space. Maybe he was suicidal, maybe he was desperate to bridge the gap and form some kind of friendship—it honestly depended on his mood at the time. Today it was boredom that fueled his actions. Boredom and a need for companionship now that Dent was in solitary for a few weeks (the former lawyer had managed to break an Orderly's arm after a snide remark about his mis-matching hair. Edward thought the punishment was a bit harsh considering the context, but he understood the need to make an example when people like Joker and Killer Croc were present. And Leland let him sneak Twinkies to Harvey every couple days, so win-win).

Anyway, Edward had noticed Crane often sat alone during mealtimes (or anytime that required socialization at Arkham) and he could see now that this time was no different. Having known the man for only a few months, he had taken it upon himself to unwrap the riddle that was Scarecrow. Though he had heard rumors that Jonathan Crane and Scarecrow were sometimes _very_ different people. Not like Harvey though, which in itself was confusing but Edward didn't need to overcomplicate his plans just yet. He just needed a foot in the door. Even if his every attempt to befriend Crane had come up empty handed—and with the occasional scratch.

At any rate, the resulting hazel-eyed glare he earned from Crane made him grin gleefully in return as he plopped down whole-heartedly, efforts renewed for another try.

"Jonny!" Edward greeted. "Salutations!"

" _Don't_ call me that, Nigma."

Edward visibly pouted, then reached across Crane for the salt, nonplused by the snap.

" _What_ are you doin'? You don't reach your _dirty little elbows_ across a'body like that at a meal!" Crane reprimanded, now sitting straighter in his annoyance. Edward heard a hint of an accent that seemed out of place, and wording that echoed just enough off from Crane's own usual speech patterns (Edward paid attention to that as well—not much else to do in this dump), but the thought was gone in a flash as Crane continued. "What were you, _raised in a barn_?"

"No, were _you_?" Edward countered, slapping on a terrible amount of salt on the mush that was supposed to be lima beans. Or butter beans. Or…something faintly green.

"How I was raised is _none of your business_." Crane replied in an icy whisper, clenching his fork. Edward eyed it, not forgetting who he was talking to, but not scared off quite yet. If anything, this reaction intrigued him.

" _Fine._ I'm no psychiatrist. And _you_ aren't either anymore." Edward decided to twist in the proverbial knife as a different approach. He still had a nasty compulsion of saying the wrong thing (or exactly _right_ thing) to set someone off.

Harvey had been the first to notice it while they were working together. At first it had been to hold his own as he entered the crime world green—not just in clothing—and naïve. But Harvey, once warmed up to the new rogue Riddler, had sat him down and confronted the behavior. Harvey had been somewhat kind…Two-Face threatened to snap a digit off if Edward didn't quit provoking him.  
And Leland…well, she had confirmed it. From what he remembered from their recent session, she had connected it somehow to his relationship with his father, and how he had begun to talk back and use his insecurities against the man in some twisted play for control. Provoke a beating to get it over with perhaps. Violent encounters had escalated after that until he had finally left home for good. But the warped social habit had stayed with him. Defense mechanism? Or need to feed some rebellious recklessness with his life? Leland hadn't decided yet.

And Edward didn't really care.

But the old memories did seep into his slowed calculations and he visibly shivered before pushing them back down.

"Cold?" Crane asked with narrowed eyes and a flicker of a wicked grin. He wasn't so easy to provoke it seemed, but then Edward knew virtually nothing about him still. So nothing of real consequence to use as ammo. Pity, that.

"Nope." Edward grinned brightly back, stuffing the last of the residual memory down as he stuffed his mouth with the mush. Crane watched and crinkled his nose in disgust.

A shuffling noise made them both look towards the line Edward had left moments earlier. Other inmates still getting food from the buffet, servers slumping the food stuffs onto their divided trays. They were the kind that were one of six complementary colors, like the ones in grade school. They were hideous in some indescribable, irrational way.

The shuffling noise, they noticed a moment later, was from a little scuffle Croc was causing, pushing into the new guy, _Tetch_.

Jervis Tetch was not on Edward's "Interesting" radar and yet he knew far more about him than he did Crane. For one thing, they had been colleagues at Wayne Tech a few years ago, before Edward had killed his supervisor. Edward hadn't thought much of him then, and he could tell that Tetch, somehow, hadn't liked him either. But at least they had been civil, which was more than he could say for his own associates on his floor. A conversation here and there every few months, a collaboration or two—that was the extent of their relationship. And when Tetch had gone rogue a month or so back, his entire story had been in the papers. His trial had been a media circus. Joker laughed himself silly when the story aired during Arkham's allotted TV Time.

 _He went insane over that doof of a secretary, how embarrassing,_ Edward had thought at the time.

So he had nothing more to really say to the man, and little Tetch seemed even more resigned to being alone anyway. Aside from allowing Crane to do that _thing_ where he has his own _little unofficial sessions_ with newbies he found interesting, Tetch kept to himself. Plus…he looked broken, and that was slightly more than Edward was ready to take. And with what happened a couple weeks back, Edward could cut the awkwardness with a knife.

 _What do you say to someone who tried to kill themself in an insane asylum?_

Crane took a swig of the tap water he had gotten, eyes focused solely on the sight before them.

"Look at him, already getting into more trouble." Edward smirked, looking on with Crane as Croc once again chuckled and pushed into Tetch, making him spill a bit of his rice on the floor. Tetch just closed his eyes, took a breath and reopened them, looking at the floor and taking it without a word of protest. As if he felt his deserved it. Or that he wasn't even worth helping himself.

The sight made Edward want to gag, it was so pathetic.

"You gonna save him again, Crane?" Edward turned to Jonathan then, head resting on an arm he propped up on the table. Crane darted his eyes sharply to his unwanted companion. But Crane was fairly surprised to see a grimace rather than the usual smirk on Nigma's face.

"I have no further interest in him." Crane simply replied.

They both heard a giggle down the table where Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn sat. They were also watching the sight of the newbie rogue getting bullied.

 _"Serves him right."_ Edward heard Pamela mumble, glaring full on at Tetch. _"Stalking and kidnapping that poor girl."_

 _"Aw c'mon Red…look at im'!"_ Harley tried to sound sympathetic, but Pamela's scowl amused her too much to keep a straight face.

Edward looked back to Jonathan, who had also turned his attention back to Tetch and Croc. Freeze was a few inmates behind Croc but spoke up in his slightly altered voice, cooling collar providing a steady mist of icy air for him to be comfortable out of his suit for the short mealtime.

"Waylon…stop picking on the boy. You're slowing up the line, and he's done nothing to you."

"Mind yer' own biz, Vic." Croc turned and growled, making Wesker hide behind his still empty tray, but a clear snort could be heard from Scareface. Selina rolled her eyes and rested her weight on a hip, obviously waiting for the line to hurry up. Freeze made a disgruntled face but let it go.

"So, lost your interest eh?" Edward asked, jolting Crane back to their conversation again as the line finally moved forward to the mystery meatloaf.

"I got what I needed from my initial conversations with him." Crane said, making to look as if busied by his own food, Edward noting he was just mixing his limas with the rice absent-mindedly. Edward had noticed Crane did that when he was agitated or lost in thought. Or both.

Edward lowered his voice "Then why'd you save him last time?"

Crane shot him yet another glare. "Like I said," he said through gritted teeth, "I didn't want his blood draining into my cell. The stain would never come out of those cheap shoes they make us wear."

" _Mmmm_ , I don't think that's why." Edward cooed, trying to push the subject.

Another shuffle, another rough low chuckle from Croc. Crane forced himself not to look over at the pair again, keeping his eyes locked with Edward's.

"You're itching to protect him, I can tell."

"Nigma, I swear, when I break out of here I will come after _you_ next."

"Ho-Hum." Edward drummed his fingers on the cheap table top. That wasn't decidedly the worst thing someone had ever threatened him with.

"Tetch means nothing to me." Crane sighed as he reiterated, a tone that Edward knew all too well of one trying to convince himself. "He wanted to be friends, if you can believe that. _Friends._ With _me_ of all people. What a joke." Crane continued, this time quieter though. A distinct change in his mood as he mixed his food again.

That was a surprising attitude if Edward had ever seen one. For Crane at least. And contrary to popular belief, Edward was not some Joker rip-off, he did have feelings. Sometimes.

"…I'm not laughing." Edward admitted just as quietly after a moment.

"Well, he's just not…interesting." Crane forced out, his mind screaming at him to take it back. Scarecrow even arguing it was not the truth.

"And that's why you've been avoiding him." Edward stated.

"It's why I've stopped initiating conversation with him, yes. Nothing else to learn."

"But… _you_ don't walk away from _him_ when he comes talk to you. I've noticed, since you almost always do with me." Edward dared bring up pointedly.

"I'm about to get up and sit with Joker if you don't _clamp that gaping maw_." Crane growled. Edward rolled his eyes but did stop talking a moment.

Then he broke the silence and Crane groaned.

"Well, you're right for once. I knew him back at WT and he was a real wet blanket. He's just not interesting." Edward sighed agreement into his cup as he drank. _Ugh,_ the tap water was more chlorine-y today. He smacked his lips in an unsatisfied manner, earning a smirk from Crane.

 ** _"AROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGH!"_** A sudden shriek called out in a dreadfully pitiful whine, and everyone stilled, shocked at the sound and looked up to where it came from. Even Joker had turned around and looked captivated by the sight.

Jervis Tetch, the small blonde man with buck teeth, was standing with his tray in his hands and a cool, unperturbed gaze as he looked up at the reptilic inmate cradling his hand, panting. A fork was sticking out of Croc's clawed right hand.

Jervis just looked on blankly a moment more before turning on his heel gracefully and walking straight to where Edward and Crane sat.

"Seat taken?" Tetch asked in a no-nonsense English accent, a bit of Croc's blood splattered on his shirt front and left glove.

"N-no…" Edward managed with a gulp. Crane just looked on wide-eyed as Tetch sat in front of him and beside Edward.

"The wretch of a lizard tried to take my Danish, the only good thing in my life today. And that simply wouldn't do." Tetch explained simply, taking a bite out the pastry. The action was framed by orderlies taking Croc to the side and wrapping his hand up after plucking out the fork (earning another whine, but it being drowned out by Joker's laughing). Pam had decided to ignore Tetch sitting a few places down, but Harley continued to whisper in her ear while looking at him and giggling excitedly. Joker continued to laugh as he ate his meatloaf. Victor patted Croc's shoulder in comfort. Things were already winding down. A couple guards were zeroing in on Tetch of course, with Leland whispering orders to them on how to take Tetch out of the room without more escalation. Edward knew he was about to get some Solitary too.

"Oh bother, I need a fork now." Tetch left to go pick another off the silverware cart, leaving Edward and Jonathan to share a look.

"I stand corrected." Edward beamed.


End file.
